


Yang and the terrible, horrible, no-good very bad morning

by Kiiratam



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Just gals being pals, Light Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 00:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: It's been a rough morning, and even a hot shower hasn't perked Yang up.Takes place between Volumes 1 and 2. (My BMBLB fic index)





	Yang and the terrible, horrible, no-good very bad morning

Scrubbing at her damp hair with a towel, Yang tried to figure out what she had to do today. Homework, probably. She'd have to check her planner. At least team practice was over. Yang was trying, but having Weiss yell at her about precision timing didn't exactly put her in the best mood for the day. At least Yang was up to 'adequate' by Weiss' exacting standards. Freezerburn mostly worked. Hopefully Weiss would actually be able to articulate what that 'perfect moment' was for Yang to start blasting. Instead of just getting angry at her for not hitting it. Yang scowled and adjusted the towel wrapped around herself. Stupid thing kept trying to fall off.

  
Weiss and Ruby were already gone. Ruby always had taken quick showers, and Weiss seemed to resent every moment she wasn't spending doing something she viewed as constructive. Which was probably why Yang's slow progress was frustrating her so much. Yang blew out a breath. She'd have to try harder, or Weiss might start backsliding, and _really_ become a pain again. And then Ruby would go into a crisis of leadership, and that was something Yang couldn't help her with at all. Best to just buckle down and work twice as hard, and hope Weiss could actually tell her what to look for.

  
So it was just Yang and Blake. Yang because she had all this hair to worry about, and Blake always took longer doing cool-downs than the rest of them, and really lingered in her hot shower. The steam was leaking out of her stall, fogging up Yang's mirror despite the fan. It wasn't like Yang really needed to see to dry her hair, but the extra humidity didn't help. And Bumblebee had been a disaster. They'd screwed up so badly, Blake had gone hurdling downrange. She didn't even know Blake knew how to swear, but she'd definitely heard as few choice words as Blake went sailing past. And felt the weight of more when Blake glared at her, when they'd set up again.

  
She groaned internally. It was a Saturday morning, the sun was shining, and here she was, getting angry at her team mates. How was her day already so terrible?

  
Blake screeched, and Yang dropped into a ready stance, grabbing Ember Celica from the counter. Spun around, sliding her weapon on, already deploying it-

  
-to see Blake, stark naked, top ears flattened, having just landed from her leap out of the stall, arms still outstretched to ward off the water. Her shadow, still in the stall, was making the same motion, water sheeting through it. Judging by how fast the steam was dissipating, it was **very** cold water. And there were a few other things that pointed to that.

  
In solidarity with Blake, Yang's towel chose this moment to make good its escape.

  
They locked eyes for what felt like a short eternity. _Don't look, don't look, don't look._ Yang broke first, spinning around quickly. "Sorry!" Realized she could still see Blake in the mirror, and squeezed her eyes shut. She crouched down, groping behind herself for that dumb towel. Tried not to think about what her peripheral vision had seen. Only managed to burn the images into her retinas.

  
She could hear Blake dash to her towel. "Hot water ran out." Yang heard a little sound of annoyance, and the shower shut off. "Sorry, I was just really startled."

  
"I thought there was a Grimm in the shower drain, or something." _There_ it was, the little jerk. It had certainly given Blake an eyeful. Or two.

  
"No, just me. Sorry. I didn't look."

  
Yang shrunk Ember Celica back down, and wrapped the traitorous towel back around herself. "It's okay. It's not like I don't like to show off. You decent?"

  
"Yeah." Blake was getting closer as she spoke. "I should be done, anyway."

  
Tentatively, Yang peered out from beneath her eyelashes. Blake had just stepped up to the sinks with her. Yang opened her eyes all the way, and focused on taking her weapon off. Trying very hard not to look at Blake and mentally fill in the details under her towel. If she did that, she'd never be able to stop seeing Blake naked, and that wouldn't be helpful. Visually appealing, yes. Helpful in a fight, no. Yang tried to think of a joke, to break the tension. Why was this so hard, all of the sudden? Blake was just her room-mate. What had Yang said when she walked in on three of her Signal friends? Something about a Yang-Bang with no Yang? And then she'd laughed and left, when they invited her to join.

  
Yeah, that wasn't going to work here. Even if there _had_ been two Blakes. Yang glanced up at the corner of the mirror, and squeezed her eyes shut again. "Uh, Blake?"

  
"Yes?"

  
"Your shadow is still in the stall."

  
"Oh!" Yang heard Blake step away, and there was a soft sigh of one of Blake's clones dissipating. "They linger sometimes. I don't know why."

  
Yang opened her eyes again. "Semblances are weird."

  
Blake dried her top ears, then started on her hair. "And it's not like they're easy to study, either. Almost everyone has a completely different one. Even people who have very similar ones have weird individual quirks." She seemed like she was going to say more, but stopped.

  
Picking up her other towel from where she'd dropped it, Yang shook it a few times, and went back to drying her hair. Not that it would really get dry in here, but only time would help with that. When Blake didn't continue her thought, Yang said, "You have a really cute butt." _...Why had all of her witty flirtations taken a holiday? Why did I say **that**? I mean, it's true. Underselling it, if anything._

  
Fortunately for Yang, Blake laughed. "Thanks!" She added, in a throaty tone that Yang had never heard her use. "_You_ have a cute butt, too." But she immediately turned red, and busied herself with her hair.

  
Had that actually been Blake flirting back at her? That was a first. And, Yang told herself, probably nothing. Yang had flirted with her Signal friends all the time, and nothing had come of it. She was just happy that Blake felt comfortable enough to try it. Maybe push her just a little bit? Yang took a step closer, and bumped hips with Blake. "Cute booty buddies."

  
Yang's towel fell off again.

  
Stooping down, Yang grabbed the towel again, scowling at it over Blake's laughter. "Quiet, you. I was trying to be cute."

  
Blake, grabbing the counter for support, just kept laughing.

  
While she was down here, Yang considered grabbing Blake's towel and tugging. See how **she** liked it.

  
_Nah, a little too spiteful. Just accept your humiliation with good grace._

  
"I'm going to go get dressed. Maybe my clothes will actually stay on."

  
Nodding, Blake just tried to get her laughter under control. Yang smiled, and headed for the door. Maybe today was still salvageable. She could talk her team mates into doing something that evening. _Conquest of Remnant? Fortresses & Froghemoths_? Maybe she could get Ruby to run a game. Even something dumb, like _Tornado_. Anything to unwind a bit. Yang could probably make time to head down to Vale and grab some snacks. It wasn't like Bumblebee _desperately_ needed a fresh coat of paint; she could push that back a week. Keeping RWBY's morale up was more important.


End file.
